All the Difference
by ItsADuckStupid
Summary: Two worlds created by a single insignificant decision. Even the smallest choices can make all the difference. [SV] Coauthored by Glittering Pegasus [Complete]
1. Prologue

Title: All the Difference  
  
Authors: Duck and Glittering Pegasus  
  
Rating: PG  
  
Timeline: S3  
  
Summary: The smallest choices can change everything.  
  
-  
  
Prologue  
  
-  
  
"Hey Syd? You awake?" Vaughn gently touched her shoulder as he stopped at the red light two blocks from her apartment. She stirred under the light prod, a smile of contentment crossing her features briefly as she dozed against the headrest. He was glad to see her relaxed; this week had taken a huge toll on her mental state. He had a secret that would help relieve the stress, and his fingers danced in anticipation on the steering wheel as the light turned green.   
  
She awoke herself before opening her eyes, wondering briefly why her room felt as if it was moving. She became aware of her surroundings a second later, and her eyelids fluttered open. She smiled a little as she looked to her left, and quietly spoke. "Hey."   
  
"Hey. You dozed off around Magnolia. We're almost home."  
  
"Mmmk." she murmured as she leaned into him, and he wrapped his arm around her protectively. "I may just stay here, if that's ok with you," she whispered into his jacket.  
  
"That would be more than okay," he chuckled lightly, stroking her hair softly with the hand not on the wheel. "If only I didn't have a debrief to go to."  
  
Sydney closed her eyes again and smiled at his touch. She opened them again at the mention of the debrief. "Have I mentioned..." she paused to yawn, "...that I hate my job?"  
  
He laughed again quietly. "Once or twice, I think."  
  
They pulled up next to her apartment faster than she expected, and was disappointed to be leaving his warm embrace. Her happily content demeanor faded quickly as she sat up. "Sloane has the device...and my mother, she-"  
  
Vaughn touched her chin and commanded gently, "Another day." To appease him she smiled a tiny smile and he reached over to kiss her.  
  
Her hand moved to the car door handle, but his voice stopped her. "So I did it."  
  
Looking into his eyes she replied, "Did what?"  
  
"Booked the hotel," he answered matter of factly.  
  
Sydney looked down for a moment, her breath caught momentarily in surprise. She looked back up. "No you didn't."  
  
He smiled at her shocked expression and disbelief and continued veraciously, "Yes I did."  
  
"You did. Santa Barbara," she confirmed, still not fully believing the words.  
  
"Three nights, starting tonight." He said, looking pleased with himself. "It was probably the greatest phone call I ever made."  
  
Her smile grew as she leaned in towards him. "You're a genius."  
  
"Thank you." After they parted from the quick kiss, he added, "So, after the debrief I'll come pick you up."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Nothing seemed out of place as Sydney let go of his hand, headed to her door, stepped inside her house. If anything, everything was a little too in place. "Hey," she greeted Francie when she saw her on the couch in the living room reading.   
  
"Hi," she answered.  
  
For some reason Francie's behavior seemed off, and Sydney called her on it. "You okay?"  
  
"Relatively speaking," her best friend answered, still not all too convincing. Sydney decided to brush it off, that she was probably just being paranoid, and headed to the freezer. She could really use something cold and sweet.  
  
Francie's, "You?" was barely heard as she glanced quickly at her choices. A pint of vanilla and a pint of coffee. She reached for the vanilla, but changed her mind and grabbed the carton of coffee instead. Maybe the taste would trick her mind to believe that caffeine was rushing through her bloodstream and she'd wake up a little.  
  
"Tired." was her response as she grabbed a spoon and peeled back the lid of the carton, anxious to wake up so she could fully enjoy her first night in Santa Barbara. Tired was not something she wanted to be in hotel room far away with Vaughn.  
  
She brought her ice cream and spoon to the living room and sat by Francie.  
  
"What's up?" her friend asked her.  
  
"I am so burnt," Sydney answered. *If only she knew...* she thought.  
  
"I understand."  
  
Remembering that she had left her cell phone off earlier to save the battery, Syd took it out to check the messages before plugging it in to charge for the trip. "You have two messages," it's high pitched mechanical voice said as she held the phone to her ear with her shoulder.  
  
"Where's Will?" she wondered as she tried to spoon some of the rock hard ice cream, listening to Mary Beth from Kendall's office tell her that she needed to call the asshole back.  
  
"Will said he had something to do," Francie answered, voice deep.  
  
Sydney's phone gave a small click as the next message began, and Will's frantic voice quietly filled her ear. "Sydney it's me listen, this is going to sound insane but I just found provacillium in the bathroom. And I think that I think that uh. Just think about it. I think the double is Franc--" Click.  
  
Slowly Sydney turned the phone off and stared at the light brown ice cream to calm her jumping pulse. Knots began to tie up her stomach, and breathing became difficult. She worked through it, however, and plans began forming in her mind. Again she stirred the now softer ice cream and smiled at Francie.  
  
"Want some?"  
  
Francie glanced up from her magazine and was silent a moment, then answered. "Sure."  
  
Sydney smiled at her and offered her the spoon. Sydney carefully put the lid back on the carton, mind spinning faster than a helicopter propeller. "I just need to get out of these clothes." She forced out in what she hoped was a calm, natural tone. Slowly, she headed to her room.  
  
Once out of view of Francie, her pace quickened to a power walk into her room, around the bed until she could reach the gun she hid under it at all times. As she was cocking it, she heard her best friend's voice from the other side of the room.  
  
"I just remembered." Sydney looked up into the face of her best friend since her freshman year in college. "Francie doesn't like coffee ice cream."  
  
A shot rang out. As the shot of a marathon signals the beginning of the race, so this blast signified the end of the world as Sydney Bristow knew it.  
  
-  
  
TBC 


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One  
  
The air was extremely hot and humid, causing beads of sweat to stand out on both Vaughn and Sydney's faces as they circled around the dimly lit camp. The camos they wore only caused to slow them in their observation, and they crept closer, material sticking to their damp backs.  
  
"How much longer do we have till we're cleared to move in?" Sydney whispered, her breathing already slow and heavy as a result of the heat.  
  
"Shouldn't be much longer," Vaughn replied, wiping his glistening forehead with an earth toned sleeve.  
  
Inwardly, Sydney couldn't help but wonder if the delay was due to the fact that everything had to be perfect, and since the particular mission they were on was supervised by Lauren, she secretly blamed her for the excess heat.  
  
"This is the Queen of Hearts to the Walrus and the Carpenter," the feminine British voice sounded through their earpieces. "You're clear."  
  
As the pair began quickening their pace towards the camp, Vaughn's voice cut through the humidity. "So... who's the walrus and who's the carpenter again?"  
  
Sydney smirked a little, glad for his humor. "I'm the carpenter. It's easy to remember."  
  
"Why, because I'm the heavy, slow one with long and pointy facial features?"  
  
"And I'm the smart one who figured out how to steal the oysters in the first place."  
  
They quietly laughed and moved further down, then heard the strict, displeased voice of Lauren in their ears again. "This is not the time to be fooling around! There's a job to be done. I suggest you both mature quickly and attend to it."  
  
In the darkness it was impossible to see Sydney's eye roll, but Vaughn sensed it all the same. He couldn't really blame her, Lauren was acting uptight and was obviously not used to their mid-mission banter. They neared the camp and any thoughts of talking ceased; silence was of the utmost importance as they crept around the noisily slumbering guards to the warehouse located at the rear.  
  
Sydney pointed at the guard slumped over at the entrance once they reached the heavily bolted door of the warehouse. He could tell immediately what she was thinking. 'Some protection they got here.' Just to be safe she injected him with an agent to make sure he didn't rise during their break in. The locks were disabled in less than 20 seconds courtesy of Marshall, and Vaughn slicked the doors hinges with an oil for fear of squeaking.  
  
Carefully, the door was pushed open and the two agents entered silently, steps nearly synchronized.  
  
Inside the warehouse, the only light was provided by a buzzing, flickering white bulb overhead. Not knowing what to expect around the dark and quiet corners, Sydney and Vaughn chose to remain nonvocal. Sydney nodded her head in the direction of a steel door past a few graffiti ridden walls, and Vaughn followed her there.  
  
The first thing she noticed about the room she entered was it's temperature; her breath rose in clouds and bumps rose along the exposed skin of her neck. It was a shocking contrast to the humidity and heat of the African air she had spent to hours sweating bullets in.  
  
The second was the rather large archway dominating the center of the small windowless dungeon. Lack of light prevented her from determining the material it was made of, but the shape was irrefutable. A curiosity came over her so strongly that even though her senses screamed the something was not right, she moved towards the impressive arch with the extent to examine what she thought were carvings on the exterior.  
  
When she placed her fingertips to the indentations, however, they were stung as though a bee had angrily jammed his stinger into each of them, and she drew her hand back in surprise. Blood rose from the ends of her fingers, and the stain on the arch glistened brightly. Anger welled in her as the tiny burn began to spread through her fingers, slowly creeping through her hand to her arms, scorching fiery paths in their wake.  
  
As the pain grew in intensity, a glow emitted from the center of the arch, enveloping her quickly until she was blinded and her senses were lost in a sea of bright light. Her body slumped to the ground and the pain receded as the light washed over her in waves that somehow comforted the stinging trails of pain, and lulled her into a sweet sleep. Vaughn cried out her name from the entrance to the room, but the sound was lost in the ever growing light of the archway.  
  
***  
  
"Hey Syd? You awake?"  
  
She awoke herself before opening her eyes, wondering briefly why it felt as if it was moving. She became aware of her surroundings a second later, and her eyelids fluttered open. She smiled a little as she looked to her left, and quietly spoke. "Hey."  
  
"Hey. You dozed off around Magnolia. We're almost home." 


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

A strange sense of déjà vu came over her as they pulled up next to her apartment. But because déjà vu was all too familiar in her mind, and since there was no question that she had been here before, she brushed it off with an air of indifference. After all, Vaughn had driven her home before, and this time was just like any other.

His embrace was warm, and the material of his jacket softly caressed her cheek so that she had no desire to leave the warm nest they had created. He, however, had to go to a debrief, and she needed to forget everything that had happened in the last few days.          

Forgetfulness would come in time, but she felt the urge to tell him of her fears. "Sloane has the device...and my mother, she-"

Vaughn touched her chin and commanded gently, "Another day." To appease him she smiled a tiny smile and he reached over to kiss her. This was one of the many reasons why she loved him; he always knew the right thing to say and do. 

Her hand moved to the car door handle, but his voice stopped her. "So I did it."  
Looking into his eyes she replied, "Did what?"  
"Booked the hotel," he answered matter of factly.

Sydney looked down for a moment, her breath caught momentarily in surprise. She looked back up. "No you didn't." _'He couldn't have,' _she thought, _'because everything is so crazy, how could he expect us to get away right now?'_

He smiled at her shocked expression and disbelief and continued veraciously, "Yes I did."

"You did. Santa Barbara," she confirmed, still not fully believing the words. 

"Three nights, starting tonight." He said, looking pleased with himself. "It was probably the greatest phone call I ever made."

Her smile grew as she leaned in towards him. "You're a genius." Maybe it was possible after all. She let the anxiety she felt wash away; the weekend getaway could allow her to forget.  

"Thank you." After they parted from the quick kiss, he added, "So, after the debrief I'll come pick you up."

"Okay," she assented, exiting the car slowly and measuring her pace as she entered the foray of her apartment. His announcement had done the trick; she began to plan what she would take with her on their trip. 

Inside the apartment things were just a little too perfect, a little too in place for her liking, and the very air seemed to tingle with foreboding. No matter what she told herself, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had been in the very spot she stood, smiling a little smile at Francie when she walked in. 

"Hey," she greeted Francie after performing a mental shake. 

"Hi," she answered.  

Usually Francie only responded in one-word answers when she was completely exhausted or extremely pissed off, which led Sydney to inquire, "You okay?"

"Relatively speaking." 

_'Must be tired,'_ she thought, _'if she was mad, she would be glaring at me right now.'_

Seeing the refrigerator out of the corner of her eye she decided she would have a little ice cream, a just reward for the day she had been through, and a little wake up so she could pack for her first night in Santa Barbara. 

Still flipping through the magazine on her lap, Francie asked her in response, "You?"

In her contemplation on how to answer her, Sydney grabbed the vanilla ice cream without thought and picked up a spoon from the drawer below her. "Tired," was the only response she could come up with, and it was the complete truth. 

When she sat down next to Francie in the living room, her friend looked at her and inquired, "What's up?" 

"I am so burnt." From her mother and her ramblings about Rambaldi, from Sloane and the world in general. Santa Barbara was looking better every second. 

"I understand."

_'No, Francie, you don't. But you're not allowed to.'_

Remembering that she had left her cell phone off earlier to save the battery, Syd took it out to check the messages before plugging it in to charge for the trip. "You have two messages," it's high-pitched mechanical voice said as she held the phone to her ear with her shoulder.

"Where's Will?" she wondered as she tried to spoon some of the rock hard vanilla ice cream, listening to Mary Beth from Kendall's office tell her that she needed to call the bald asshole back.

"Will said he had something to do," Francie answered, voice deep.

Sydney's phone gave a small click as the next message began, and Will's frantic voice quietly filled her ear. "Sydney it's me listen, this is going to sound insane but I just found provacillium in the bathroom. And I think that I think that uh. Just think about it. I think the double is Franc--" Click.

It took Sydney only a split second to realize what Will had said and another two seconds to recover from it. Trying as hard as possible to maintain her composure, she removed the phone slowly from her ear and clicked it off. 

She looked up at the woman across the couch from her. She looked exactly like the best friend she'd known since freshman year at college. She looked exactly like Francie. How could she not be the woman that she'd lived with nearly every year since she'd met her? 

Lingeringly she stood and forced on a small smile. "Francie... I've got to change out of these clothes."

"Ok." 

She sounded just like Francie too. Sydney put the ice cream back into the freezer and headed to her room. She reached under her bed for her gun, fingers grasping the cool metal handle as she pulled it out and stood again, heading for the door.

She pulled back the trigger slowly and thought about how it would feel to aim at the woman on the couch. She hesitated. 

Could she really do this? What if Will was wrong? She'd be killing her best friend.   
Then Sydney thought...she thought back a few months to the takedown. Francie's sudden unsettling spirit, her nonchalance when meeting Vaughn, how distant she'd become... the bugs in the apartment... and suddenly, Sydney knew it was the truth. The wool had been pulled over her eyes for God knows how long. She'd been blinded by her own emotions and unable to realize what was right in front of her.   
'_I am so stupid', _she thought as she gripped the gun harder. '_But this is no time to be beating myself up'. _No. She had to take care of this. Now.

Her steps were calculated as she tiptoed down the short hallway, but when she emerged into the living room it was void of anyone, and she felt her pulse begin to skyrocket as she scanned the area quickly. Francie, or rather, the double, was nowhere to be found. 

She stepped into the open room hesitantly, gun poised and ready. She heard Francie coming before she felt the tackle from behind, but couldn't turn fast enough to counterattack, and was hurled to the ground so forcefully it knocked the wind from her lungs and the gun from her hand. 

Gasping, she scrambled for the weapon as the double came at her again, and she flipped onto her back and fired. Not realizing she had closed her eyes, she opened them to see her best friend splayed on the ground, blood gushing from the wound in her neck.

The world crashed then, when she saw her best friend dying in the hall of the apartment they shared, and feeling the cold metal handle of the gun that ended it all. Her breaths came shorter and shorter until she was suffocating, the room spinning out of control…and then a sweet blackness. 

It was not destined to last, however, because her cell phone chose to begin its shrill music, and she was brought back from the nonexistence she had been edging near. _'Shit'_ was her only reaction, and then she forced herself to get up and find the offending phone. 

It was a text from Vaughn, no doubt in the middle of his debrief, and it simply said, "Can't wait."

Not exactly in any state for romantic anecdotes, she shoved the phone away from her, eyes still drowning in tears. 

A wave of nausea swept through her and she realized she was going to be sick very, very quickly. She scrambled on her knees into the bathroom and emptied the dinner she'd had with Vaughn earlier and the vanilla ice cream into the toilet. Choking and gagging so hard that she saw red, she finally backed up against the wall, nothing left in her stomach but air. 

Sydney rested her head against the wall behind her and covered her face in her hands, sobbing now. Bringing a hand down quickly to wipe hair from her damp forehead, she caught a flash of something in the tub in the corner of her eye. _Oh, God... _she thought and gasped, suddenly feeling the need to vomit again. 

Her stomach convulsed again and again as she rested her forehead against the cool tiles of her bathroom floor, sobbing pitifully until she lacked the strength to do even that. The sweat was cold and clammy on her skin and she thought she'd never felt more disgusting in her life, physically and emotionally. 

There was a resonance of cracking wood from the front of the apartment; the unmistakable sound of someone breaking and entering. Her brain immediately went into spy mode, she made herself rise from the floor and glance around the doorframe to see the offending intruder, or intruders, which was more likely the case. 

Six men, it seemed, with black ski masks and what looked to be a body bag, entered with absolutely no stealth, which was shocking considering that three people could possibly be moving around inside, one of which being a trained spy. 

Her mind raced and her heart pounded. She glanced quickly at Will, then at the men, then at Will again. She didn't want to just leave him here, but there didn't seem to be a choice. What would her enemies want with the body of her best friend anyway? 

Her eyes then shot to the window across the hall in the bedroom. She leaned over the tub. "I'm so sorry, Will. I'll be back for you as soon as it's possible. Love you... sorry!" she whispered, then sprinted as silently as possible into the bedroom. 

She couldhear the deep muffled voices of the men in the other room, coming closer and closer to her current location. Without allowing herself a moment's hesitation, she yanked up the window and threw herself out of it, tumbling onto the damp grass outside. She shivered and lay otherwise motionless for a moment, then forced herself up and ran, not turning back until she was at least half a mile away. 

Pausing then to catch her breath, she turned back to her home. Through the dark Los Angeles night, Sydney was sure she could see a bright orange flicker peaking through the window just before she turned again and pounded the shining pavement. 

When she had first come to the CIA and received Vaughn as her handler, it had been recommended that she memorize the directions to his home in case she had been discovered and could not contact him through the phone. Luckily for her, she still remembered them, and that was the path she took through the night. 

If anyone thought it strange to see a full-grown woman dressed in a conservative suit running across streets and keeping to the shadows, no one stopped her to question. Her mind was focused solely on making it to Vaughn's apartment, although it occurred to her that they might be waiting there as well.

It wasn't until she broke in to the bottom floor of the apartment that she let herself calm down, shutting the door gently behind her and climbing the two floors of stairs to get to 2C, then using the bobby pin that opened the lobby door to open his as well. 

She'd never been there before, never seen where her boyfriend lived and slept occasionally. It was tasteful, a typical bachelor pad, but her mind wouldn't stay on it because she kept remembering and everything began to blur until her thoughts were one long continuous train of _'Oh shit oh shitFrancie'sdeadWill'sdeadmyapartmentisgonewhatthehellishappening'_

_'Breathe. Just breathe goddamnit.'_ She told herself over and over, until finally air began to circulate in her lungs and her mind began to slowly calm and she realized that she could smell the vomit, the acrid odor of the gun, and both her friend's blood on herself, and that almost made her stomach convulse once more. In sudden haste she made her way to the back of the apartment and found the bathroom. 

Shedding her clothes, she climbed into the shower and turned the water as hot as it would go. As the water pelted down, it mingled with her tears until the pounding soothed her into a daze and the water began to run cold. She let it run over her, rivulets streaming down her face as she cried for her friends. 

_TBC…_

A/N: Now we get to the good stuff. The next chapters are the real reason we started writing this…and just to clear it up, her adventure in S3 was REAL, not a dream. :-D Thanks for reading, 

Holly and Dani


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Her hair was dry by the time the door to the apartment 2C was opened and the threshold crossed. The shower had cleansed her body of the smell of death, but her mind was far from purification. Vaughn's clothes replaced the outfit she ran the streets in. It was comforting to smell him so close and it soothed her troubled mind as she curled up first under his plaid comforter on the bed she'd never slept in.   
It was too soft however, and she found herself huddling in the corner of the room between a bookshelf and a gigantic hockey trophy no doubt won in the league he had played in for nearly as long as he had lived in LA.

Though it seemed as though sleep wasn't possible, the immense weight on Sydney's mind bore down on her eyelids as well, and they shut almost unwillingly. Her mind swirled with images as she began to drift into a fitful sleep. 

She dreamt, as she'd expected to. It's almost impossible to have a night like the one she'd been having and not dream. Or have nightmares, for that matter. In hers, she was at her apartment. All was normal. She was playing Boggle with Will and Francie and checking the dictionary for proof that another of Will's eccentric words existed. But suddenly, Francie grabbed the large book out of her hands and slammed it down on the Boggle box, cracking the clear plastic. Letter cubes flew everywhere. Three flew towards Will and sliced through his chest, leaving a blood trail as he fell. Sydney looked down at the now stained letters. 'R I P'

She turned to Francie, horrified. But her best friend just smiled sadistically and pelted 12 more cubes at her, lightening fast. So fast that they impacted her chest, burning and scorching like bullets. Just before she fell to the ground, she caught a glimpse of what they spelled.

 "A-L-L-Y-O-U-R-F-A-U-L-T" 

_'Nonononono, it's not'_... Sydney's dying dream self protested as the world blackened. Francie grinned again and disappeared, leaving Sydney to die in peace. Or so she thought. Seconds later, she heard the door open and slam back shut, and footsteps echo down the hall. They were coming for her!

*

A heavy hand turned the knob slowly and he couldn't help but feel like the ash on the exterior blanketed his interior as well. Waves of numbness washed over him again and again because he was just too worn to feel anymore. At the moment his pain was gone but he feared for the morning; that was going to hurt like hell. 

During the debrief he had barely been able to sit still for anticipation, and had texted her just to stop himself from jiggling his leg. But when he reached her apartment…god he'd never felt so in agony as when he saw the flickering flames snaking out from the front window.

He'd seen her in danger for so long, had come _this close _to losing her so many times that the feeling stabbing his heart was achingly familiar. The firemen were already dousing the hungry fire and he pushed through the throng of observers to the policeman standing before the burning apartment. 

"Excuse me!" he cried. "Please! What happened here?" 

The policeman looked up from his note tablet. "We don't know, Mr..." 

"Vaughn."

"We don't know, Mr. Vaughn. We got a call from a neighbor who'd smelled the smoke. We should have it out soon but--"

"Did you find who was living there??" he shouted over the noise. 

"...No. I'm sorry--"

Vaughn didn't stay to hear the pity apology. He turned and began to run. Straight into the inferno. He distantly heard the yells. "Hey! Sir! Sir! You can't go in there! 

Mr. Vaughn! ...Someone go get him...!"

He ignored them.

The firemen weren't so easy to ignore, however, and he was pulled out before he could even get through the front door. Tears streamed down his face as they told him that they had found a body of a man in the bathtub, but no one else. Deep in his soul he knew that she was alive, he prayed to any god that would listen to keep her alive, and the fury began to well in him. Someone did this to her, someone did this to the woman he loved. God help him if he wouldn't find her. 

He had to get into the shower, had to wash the smell of soot and fire and ash from his body and mind, because he kept imagining Sydney burning, burning like the Joan of Arc she was. A sound from the bedroom made his spine straighten and his senses kick in; someone was in there, and if they had come after Sydney tonight, they probably would come after him too. 

Not caring much about whether he was killed in the process, he crept towards his bedroom, grabbing his an autographed hockey stick from his closet on the way. He gripped it tightly, ignoring the stinging of a wooden splinter lodging itself into his skin. 

Carefully, he pushed open the door of his bedroom. Cautiously, he entered and took a step forward. He peered around the seemingly normal room. A rustling noise came from the corner. He swiveled to it and raised the hockey stick. A split second later, it fell from his hands.

"Oh God."

There she was, the cause of his pain, his fears, his love, huddled in a corner and crying as she slept. Her hair had waves like it had just dried, and he could see that she wore his clothes. He strode to her sat down, pulling her into his arms so that he could feel her. She was so alive, so…real that he buried his face in her hair and wept like a child. "Oh God Sydney, Sydney, I thought, oh, I thought you were captured or dead, and I was so scared. Don't leave me. Don't ever leave me."

"Mmm..." Sydney groaned a little as she opened her eyes, the scent of soot and ash mixed with something wonderful and sweet deep underneath filling her nostrils. She recognized what was underneath. "Mm... Vaughn?" 

"Oh, God, Syd!" his scratchy voice answered, muffled. Everything snapped into focus. She felt his arms around her and his face in her hair. "Syd, thank God!"

He sounded as though he'd been crying as much as she had. She lifted her head and placed a hand on his cheek. "Vaughn...What's wrong?"

"Your apartment... it was on fire... and you weren't there. And Syd, I... I thought you were dead." 

I thought you were dead... 

The phrase flashed across her mind, making her skin tingle and the hairs on her neck stand. Why did that phrase seem so portent to her? _You've had a long night and you're still freaked out. Just let it go _she told herself, and relaxed in his arms. 

"I'm right here..." she whispered, squeezing his hand. "I'm alright, and I'm right here."

He couldn't answer, only squeezed her hand and rested his face in the crook of her neck. She pulled his hand so that his entire arm wrapped around her stomach protectively. His protection was what she needed at that moment, and nothing else. 

*

A young man dressed in black stood outside the cold night air, his voice formal and respectful. "Sir, Sydney Bristow was not in the premise when we arrived, and we could not locate her within the time limit."

"I was assured that she would be there, and that she would be unconscious. My source must have been deceiving me, but I will deal with that myself. Did you apprehend the other?"

"Yes, but not where you said. She was in hallway, not in the back bedroom, and there was only a single bullet, not three."

The man on the other end of the line seethed with rage. All the information he had been given, useless! He had made great plans for Sydney Bristow, and now they were ruined. Lazarey did not like to have his plans ruined. His resolution was made; Arvin Sloane was going to pay dearly. 


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four  
  
Three weeks later.  
  
Sydney hesitated outside the hospital door, hand poised above the handle and the other wrapped around a pot of flowers she'd picked up on the way over. Resting her forehead against white wood of the door, she took a deep breath and counted to ten. Sure, she'd been to visit Will everyday since he had been brought to Cedar Hospital, but he had woken up from the coma last night, and today she would be faced with questions she wasn't sure how to answer.  
  
Resolutely she turned the handle and pushed the door open. Will was her best friend, and she was going to answer whatever question he had to the best of her ability.  
  
He was asleep, his head resting peacefully on the limp pillows and a light snore issuing from his nose. Sydney smiled and placed the new flowers next to the old. As she sat down in her usual chair, tears began to slide down her face in rapid succession.  
  
'It's just Will,' she told herself, and smoothed down the blanket surrounding his slumbering form. His hand jerked when she touched it, and his eyes opened slowly.  
  
"Hey," she whispered, and his hand came up to touch her cheek.  
  
"Syd." His voice was hoarse and he licked his lips before trying to say anything else.  
  
"Shhh, you should sleep." She brought her hand up to cover his on her face, and she closed her eyes. "You've been through a lot."  
  
He brought his hand down and took her other and squeezed it. "I've been in a coma for three weeks. Moving is a nice change of pace."  
  
"Yeah, well you don't want to overdo it and end up in another coma." She paused there, unsure of how to approach her next question. "Do you... do you remember how this happened?"  
  
Will's eyes glassed over a little, and for a moment Sydney thought she might have gone way too far too fast, might have already broken him. But he blinked and locked his blue eyes with hers. "There was... Allison. In your apartment. The medicine... and the phone call... she had a knife..." he trailed off.  
  
"Alright, it's okay Will. We don't have to talk about it just yet."  
  
"Syd... how could I have not realized? I... I should have known. Every time I kissed her... or touched her... I should have known."  
  
Sydney shook her head vehemently. "Don't think that way, Will. No one knew, not you, not me. She was good at what she did. We can't blame ourselves."  
  
He looked up into her eyes and smiled sadly. "You're such a hypocrite, Syd." When she opened her mouth to protest, he just closed his eyes. "Don't deny it, you blame yourself for everything."  
  
He was fading, she could tell by how slow he was talking, and how hard he struggled to keep his eyelids from dropping. To avoid an argument, she just nodded and touched his face with her fingers. "If you need me or just want to talk, don't hesitate to call, okay?"  
  
Nodding into her hand, he drifted off into sleep.  
  
When she was sure he was completely asleep, Sydney removed her hand and stood. She leaned down to place a kiss on his cheek, then walked quietly out of him room feeling as though something large and heavy had been removed from her shoulders.  
  
"Hey," a soft voice greeted her outside the room. Her smile of relief grew wider, now becoming a smile of happiness.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"How is he?"  
  
"Physically, he'll be fine. Emotionally..." she trailed off, letting him decide what she would have said.  
  
"And you?"  
  
"I'm okay."  
  
Vaughn looked at her. After a second's pause, she sighed. "Really. I will be."  
  
He nodded, and she knew he only half believed her. He knew her too well. "Okay... if you're sure. Because, you know, if you want to wait a little while before we go on our trip, I'd completely understand."  
  
She let herself smile a little again and grabbed his hand. "Oh, no. You are not getting out of this that easy."  
  
A slow grin crept up his face. "I'm just looking out for you, Sydney. I don't know if you can handle me for a whole weekend. Your stamina could use some work, so if you want to save up your strength, it's okay."  
  
Sydney's hand snaked up his chest to the collar of his jacket and tugged at it threateningly. "You'll be sorry you said that, mark my words."  
  
He pulled her by the waist so that she was up against him, looking up into his eyes. He whispered, "I'll hold you to it," and then brushed a soft kiss against her lips. She sighed when he released her, and they walked out of the hospital ward hand in hand.  
  
Out in the parking lot, Sydney and Vaughn had made it only halfway to her blue Ford Focus when an incessant beeping sounded from both of their cell phones.  
  
Reluctantly, they pulled their clasped hands apart to allow Sydney to answer hers. "Hello?"  
  
"We need you in here," Kendall's stoic voice demanded.  
  
"Can it wait? We just visited Will and I'm a little drained-"  
  
"We need you in here," he repeated, and the line went dead.  
  
"Bastard," Sydney muttered under her breath, immediately rejoining her hand with Vaughn's and squeezing it a little too tightly for comfort, on his part anyway.  
  
Vaughn, who luckily was left handed, answered his phone to talk to Weiss, who insisted that it really was important, and that they should hurry their asses up. Sydney frowned as she started the car, turning to Vaughn before she backed out of the parking space. "What do you think is so important? Do you think they found out who tried to kill us?"  
  
"Don't get your hopes up, Syd. It could just be Kendall being an ass, like usual," Vaughn warned, watching her expression carefully. For the past three weeks, since he had held her in his apartment, she had been working nonstop to find the people that killed Francie and attempted Will's life and her own. The only time she would sleep would be by Will's side, and Vaughn had lost count of the times he'd walked into the hospital room to find Sydney's head on Will's shoulder.  
  
They drove in silence, but it was comfortable, their hands intertwined the whole ride.  
  
"Ah, Agents Vaughn and Bristow. Glad you could make it," Kendall greeted them.  
  
"Oh, so are we," Sydney retorted, a sweet smile on her face. Vaughn shot her a look but hid a snicker behind his hand.  
  
"You'll be working with an investigator from the NSC here to investigate your mother." Kendall's voice dropped to a lower tone, "I advise you to be courteous to her because the NSC has wanted to take control of this Ops Center for a while, and I don't want to give them any reasons to stay. " A woman walked up to the group, and Kendall stopped talking.  
  
The woman smiled at Vaughn and stuck out her hand. "Hello, I'm Lauren Reed." 


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

A/N: Fans of Lauren Reed, run now. 

Vaughn smiled lightly and shook Lauren's hand. Sydney could tell that Lauren's eyes were sweeping over her boyfriends figure appreciatively, and cleared her throat loudly after Vaughn introduced himself. Lauren turned towards her, and Sydney gave her a tightlipped smile. "Sydney Bristow."

"Nice to meet you both," she said, eyes still focused on Vaughn. Resentment curled in Sydney's stomach, sure she was used to other women checking out Vaughn, but 'Miss Lauren Reed' was hardly being subtle. 

"So, Miss Reed, you wanted to ask us about my mother?" Sydney spoke up, knowing her feelings were slightly juvenile but for some reason felt helpless to put an end to them. 

"Oh, yes," Lauren replied, darting her eyes away from Vaughn, who seemed to be slightly taken aback. 

"We should get to that. Agent Vaughn and I... *we'll* need to be going soon." _Not-So-Subtle implications of the relationship between Vaughn and I… that's not too Jr. High. Nice going, Syd. What's next, braces?_

"Oh, alright. Then yes, Agent Bristow. We can 'get to it' right away."

"Thank you."

Lauren's spine straightened considerably as she led them to a conference room, and Vaughn furrowed his eyebrows at Sydney's behavior. She was never the type to become jealous, or rude unless there was a reason. Even stranger was the jolt of familiarity when he was introduced to her. If he hadn't been so in love with Sydney, he might have found her attractive and tried to talk to her. 

For a reason unknown to her, Sydney kept thinking of insults to throw at Lauren, and was surprised at her own level of animosity towards her. _'I just met her, why do I detest her so much?'_  Determined to keep her mouth shut, she sat down next to Vaughn and folded her hands.

Lauren began to explain what they had found so far, and proceeded to ask her questions about Irina and what had been said to her during her residence the Ops Center. 

Sydney and Vaughn answered her questions as best as they could, Sydney biting her tongue several times to prevent herself from letting slip the rather impolite comments she was harboring.

  
Finally, Lauren looked up from her notepad at Sydney and cleared her throat. "Miss Bristow, did Derevko ever drop any hints towards you of her eventual endgame?"

  
"Meaning...?"

  
"Other than justifiable suspicion, did you ever have valid reason to believe that Irina Derevko was less than loyal to the Central Intelligence Agency?"

  
"Are you implying that I knew she was a traitor all along?" 

  
"Understand, Agent Bristow, I'm simply exploring all possible-" 

  
"Well I had no idea. As you said, I was suspicious, understandably. But it's not like she ever told me during a mother-daughter tea party that she was going to betray us!"

Lauren glared at Sydney and scribbled on her notepad. From where she was sitting, Sydney couldn't tell just how hard the pen was pressing into the paper, but from the sound that the paper was emitting, she could imagine it was close to ripping. 

"Are we done?" She controlled her voice so that the hostility was masked and merely sounded bored.  

Lauren was really starting to hate Sydney Bristow, and the hate that filled her did not seem new. It was like she had hated her from the moment she had heard her name, two weeks ago. Now she felt like her hate was justified; Sydney Bristow was arrogant and self-righteous. "For now. I may have more questions later."

"Fine." With that she left the conference room in a huff, and Vaughn was left vaguely wondering what the hell just happened. 

Vaughn excused himself politely and hurried after Sydney, who was making her way out of the Ops center.

Lauren placed her notepad and pen in her briefcase and left the conference room. Realizing that the disk she used to type up her reports was still in her car, she headed to the garage. Once there, she started towards her car, but stopped short before she turned the corner. 

"Syd, what was that all about?" Vaughn questioned once they were alone in the parking garage, away from listening ears... or so they thought.   
"I don't know..." Sydney replied, still wondering about the situation herself. "I just... there's something I don't like about her." She paused, reflecting on the feelings that overcame her. "It was like I had this resentment, like I've always disliked her. For a second, I even felt jealous, and I don't even know her!"

Turning away from Vaughn, she bit her lip. The emotions running through her were so strong that she couldn't even look him in the face. One second she was angry with him, so bitter, that she wanted to turn around and slap him. Then… then it was just longing coursing through her. Tears filled her eyes, and she flung herself into Vaughn's arms. 

"Syd, what's wrong?" he asked, startled, as he held her. 

"I have no idea," she sniffled, "I have all these emotions running through me, and I don't know why."

For another few moments, he just held her and rocked her slowly, moving his hand soothingly through her hair, letting her cry. Then he asked gently, "Syd, tell me what you're feeling." 

  
She pulled back slowly, still keeping a tight grip on his hand, and looked straight into his patient eyes. "I... I can't describe it well. It's just... I don't know. Like when we met Lauren. I didn't like her. I mean, right away I didn't like her. Not just a bad instinct or assumption, though. It was as though I had a reason to hate her, one that I've had for a while. And she started to come on to you... I'm used to people doing that..." she smiled a little, and then became serious again. "But for some reason I couldn't handle it. It just... I don't know. I've been having these bizarre feelings about everything the last few days. It's like I've... I don't know. Like I've been in a constant state of deja vu. And I always feel like something... always... doesn't belong," she finished, wondering if _she_ even understood what she meant. 

"I'm sorry, I must be making absolutely no sense."

"Don't be sorry," he murmured as he brushed a stray hair from her face. "To be honest, there was something inside me that was attracted to her." Sydney tried to pull her hand from his, but his grip held tight. "Don't. It's gone, Syd. You know you've ruined other women for me." His tone became playful. "Have you been slipping things into my drinks?"

"No," her tone mischievous, "Its just the really good sex." Sydney felt as if she was riding an emotional roller coaster, because now that he was holding her hand she felt safe and relaxed, and ready for a little shameless flirting. 

*

Lauren brought a hand to her temple as she watched the display before her. She felt all the hope and optimism about the handsome male agent drain away and become replaced quickly by jealousy and hurt. She'd felt something with him! She knew she had... and he'd felt it too, he'd even admitted it to his... she forced out the word in her mind... girlfriend. But she... this *Sydney* stole it away. Took away all her chances. And had the nerve to insult her, to decide right off the bat that she hated... not only disliked...but *hated* her.

*

"Oh really," his tone shifted so that it had an almost lazy sultry to it, "I thought-" Sydney's lips touching his interrupted his sentence, and he pulled her closer until his hands roamed freely down her back. 

She pulled away with a cocky smile. "Sometimes you just have to let me have the last word, Vaughn."

"Sometimes? Syd, you always have the last word, whether I like it or not."

"Yea, so what," she whispered as she pulled him back to her. He didn't object, but what man would when Sydney Bristow was kissing them like that?

*

Lauren pulled her head back around the corner in disgust. The last thing she wanted to see was a woman that she despised sticking her tongue down the throat of a man she had developed a crush on. No, it was more than a crush, she decided. She was a woman, far too old for childish crushes. She had a *feeling* for him, something that stirred deep within her. Something that was almost unnatural, something that seemed completely inconceivable. She'd never been one to fall so easily under a man's spell. But this was different. It was almost as if she felt... like she was *supposed* to have an attraction to him. It was in her nature, in her blood, to fall for him. 

  
To be with him. 

  
And that's when she realized... it all suddenly fit. This Sydney Bristow was the most despicable, horrible person she had ever met. And she was stealing her soul mate.

A resolution began to form in Lauren's mind as she leaned against the concrete wall. Michael Vaughn felt something for her as well, and that had to mean they were meant, they were destined. Somehow she'd have to convince him of that very fact, even if it meant incurring the wrath of Sydney Bristow. 

TBC… 


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter 6  
  
A light breeze ruffled through Sydney's hair, sending the long strands dancing in the air and occasionally whipping into her face. Annoyed, she reached down for the ponytail holder she kept on her wrist, but her hand was stopped mid journey.  
  
"Don't," Vaughn whispered into her ear, entwining his fingers with hers. "I like it down." He leaned back in the sand and pulled Sydney with him. They lay there, hands still clasped, gazing into the cloudless Santa Barbara sky.  
  
She snuggled into him, letting her long brown hair fan out on his chest. Sighing happily, she asked, "Hey...did you ever play that game when you were little?"  
  
"Hm? What game?" His hold tightened as she made herself comfortable.  
  
"You know, where you say what you think the cloud looks like."  
  
"No." He wished for some clouds so that he could play now, however. "I was too busy playing hockey."  
  
She let a lazy smile cross her face. "You can't play hockey all the time, Vaughn. What did you do during the summer?" This was why she really wanted to take this vacation; to learn all the little things they never had time to talk about. His childhood was a blank spot in her history of Michael Vaughn and she was determined to change that.  
  
"During the summer... I went to an overnight camp outside of Paris every year from when I was seven to when I was fourteen," he grinned and added pointedly, "A hockey training camp."  
  
Sydney smiled as her free hand found its way to his hair and began tracing invisible patterns in it. "What did you do there? And don't you dare say 'played hockey.'"  
  
"I made a lot of really good friends... mostly during my first year there, and they became better the next year. They really helped me through a lot of crap that year, as young as we were."  
  
Upon realizing what he must have meant, Sydney gripped his hand tighter. "I'm so sorry, Vaughn."  
  
"I told you not to be sorry for her."  
  
"Vaughn-"  
  
"Sydney." She stopped. He continued. "Sydney, we're not going to talk about this now. We're here to relax and forget the hellish life we lead back home. Please, can we just... forget that stuff now?" Her silence answered him. He leaned over and kissed her forehead gently. "Thanks."  
  
They didn't speak for a few minutes, letting the salty aroma of the ocean fill their senses. Waves lapped the shore softly and left little white trails of seafoam on the darkened sand. Seagulls called out at each other and little children splashed in the water. Sydney's eyes drifted shut, soothed by the soft lullaby of the sea. The plagues of her life were washed away with each crash of water upon the shoreline.  
  
'How,' she thought to herself, ' how can there be so much evil in the world if places like this exist?'  
  
"Hey Syd," Vaughn said gently in her ear, "We better go if we want to make those reservations."  
  
"Mmm," was her only response as she buried herself deeper into his embrace. All she wanted to do was fall asleep in his arms and be content forever.  
  
"Syd..." he murmured, as reluctant as she was to make any movement at all that would change this moment, but knowing it couldn't remain frozen forever.  
  
"Alright..." she responded slowly, withdrawing her hand from his hair, bringing it down to brush the warm flecks of sand from her jeans before unhurriedly lifting her head from where it lay on his chest.  
  
He sat up, still keeping their hands linked between them, and turned to her. For a moment, all they could do was stare and wonder. How was it that things like this were possible? Soul mates couldn't exist... love this strong couldn't exist. Yet neither one of them could imagine anything that was between them instead.  
  
"Syd  
  


* * *

  
"Hmm?"  
  
There it was. The perfect moment. The moment that little girls spend their childhood dreaming about. All he had to do was say it... let the words drift out and settle in the humid air between them. Only three syllables... it would be so simple, so easy  
  


* * *

  
"We should get back."  
  
Sydney nodded, slightly disappointed but understanding, and leaned forward, kissing him delicately. They drew back, slowly and rhythmically as the waves pulling back from the shore. "Let's go."  
  
Walking hand in hand off the beach, Syd looked up at the still cloudless sky. It signified good times ahead, she thought. Looking at clouds caused her pain...she had surprised herself when she'd brought it up. Her hand clutched his tighter, and if he noticed, he chose not to comment.  
  
"So where are we going for dinner?" she asked when they were close to their hotel.  
  
He just grinned. "You can't handle not knowing. It's driving you crazy, isn't it?"  
  
Trying not to smile, she smacked his arm. "I'm perfectly fine. I just need to know how to dress, that's all." It was a lie, and they both knew it, but they were both having too much fun to care.  
  
"Oh, some cowboy boots would work great," he replied, still grinning.  
  
Stopping dead in her tracks, she turned to him, expression as serious as she could manage. "You do realize I know how to kill you with just a few fingers, right?"  
  
Laughing, he continued to walk. She followed, glaring at him. "That's not funny, Vaughn."  
  
He turned around and kissed her soundly. Breaking away, he continued to make his way to the hotel lobby. Ever since they had reached Santa Barbara, it seemed like he'd been smiling nonstop. He knew this had been a good idea, but he'd had no clue how good of an idea it was.  
  
She caught up to him and he wrapped an arm around her waist, still grinning at the pissed off look on her face. "What do you have against country bars? Country music is highly under appreciated."  
  
Shaking her head, she refused to speak. Once through the lobby doors, he kissed her temple. She hated how he could piss her off and then with a kiss unarm her. 'It's gotta be the French in him,' she thought as the elevator rose.  
  
"Something nice."  
  
She looked up at him. "What?"  
  
"Wear something nice."  
  
*  
  
Sydney dug through her suitcase for the fourth time that hour, convinced that she had nothing nice enough to wear. Part of her was wondering why it mattered, Vaughn had seen her at her absolute worst and cared for her anyway. But another part of her wanted, at least for tonight, to be the most beautiful woman in the world for him.  
  
She pulled a slinky black number from the bottom that had evaded her grasp. "Perfect," she whispered to herself as she ran her fingers over the soft material. Since she'd lost all her clothes in the fire, she went shopping and the dress was a little something she bought specially for Santa Barbara.  
  
As Sydney began to run a brush through her already perfect, shiny hair, Vaughn stood in front of the bathroom mirror and straightened his tie for the 6th time. He'd been ready for almost a half an hour but he knew that walking out of the bathroom and seeing Sydney before she was ready would destroy all her fun.  
  
But suddenly, a rude melodic beeping interrupted his thoughts. His cell phone. He pulled it swiftly out of his pocket and answered without looking at the number.  
  
"Michael Vaughn."  
  
"Michael, hi, this is Lauren Reed, we met the other day."  
  
"Oh, yeah, I remember. Hi."  
  
A voice called out from the bedroom, "Vaughn, ready!"  
  
"Is this a bad time?" Lauren asked as he opened the door.  
  
"Well-"  
  
"-Because I was hoping I could talk to you about-"  
  
But it didn't matter what she was hoping. Because his gaze then fell upon Sydney. She smiled. He gulped and cut off Lauren's voice. "Um, Ms. Reed? Could you hold that thought? I'm a little busy now."  
  
"But-"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
The 'off' button on his phone had never seemed so friendly. Once off, he placed the phone on the counter and walked slowly over to Sydney. She nodded at the phone on the bathroom counter. "Who was that?"  
  
"Nobody," he muttered as he pulled her to him and kissed her soundly. "You know," he whispered into her ear, "I'm not so hungry for food anymore." Kissing down her neck, he felt her pulse quicken and goose bumps stand out on her skin. "Vaughn."  
  
"Hmm?" His hands had joined in his ministrations, and she felt the familiar sensations spread to her fingertips.  
  
"Stop that."  
  
He grinned when her arms wrapped around his back. "Stop what?" He placed kisses along her jaw line, feeling more and more confident that they would never leave the hotel room.  
  
"That," she gasped as he returned to her neck. "I want to know where we're going to dinner!" Frustrated, she pushed him away. His cocky smile just made to fuel her psuedo rage even more.  
  
"Actually," his smile softened and eyes widened, as if he was expecting a blow, "I never had anywhere in mind. I just wanted to see you in that dress I saw in the apartment."  
  
Sydney's mouth twitched but she forced her expression to remain stoic. "You asshole."  
  
"Maybe. But you have to admit, you liked seeing me in this too." He tugged at the collar of his suit jacket.  
  
"I hate you so much right now."  
  
"For a well trained and talented spy, you're not very convincing at the moment."  
  
"Shut up."  
  
"Make me."  
  
Sydney knew exactly how to do that. Quickly, she grabbed his arm and pulled him to her, bringing their lips together full force.  
  
As they pulled apart for breath, Vaughn had barely enough time to say "Alright, I've satisfied my urge to see you in this dress long enough..." before they came crashing together again and landed on the bed, their hunger... for the food, at least, as Vaughn had said... now completely forgotten.  
  
It wasn't until a few hours later when Sydney holding Vaughn's hand and her head was on his chest that she let herself fully realize how happy she was. Life may have been throwing her some curveballs, but this moment, right now, was all she needed.  
  
"Syd?" Soft lamplight caressed his skin, giving it a muted glow and reflecting off his eyes almost eerily. She craned her head up to see his eyes and kissed his chest on the way.  
  
"Yea?" Again she heard the unspoken words hanging overhead, threatening to spill out. It would complete the perfect day, she thought, as his fingers traced the curves of her jaw.  
  
"I'm glad we came." A subdued smile crossed her features as he bent his head to kiss her on the mouth, re igniting the fire that had been put out merely minutes before. They didn't need to rush it, she thought. But then again, time wasn't always on their side.  
  
*  
  
"Mr. Sloane...you disappoint me. Those promises you made amounted to nothing, so we lost the assent we had hoped to gain." Lazeray's voice was cold and distant as the safety turned off. The gag tightly restraining the griseld old man prevented him from answering, but his eyes were filled with fear. Something had gone horrifically wrong, but he had no idea what it could have been.  
  
"Since you were so helpful before, I'm going to make this relatively painless. You are a good affiliate, and I'm sorry you have to die."  
  
The gun fired, and Arvin Sloane lost his life.  
  
*  
  
He jerked up in bed, a cold sweat drenching the expensive starched sheets and chilling him to the bone. It was almost like he had died, the way his life flashed before his eyes and the unnerving darkness that enveloped him until he was forced awake.  
  
It was no dream...of that he was certain. No, he knew, something had malfunctioned within Il Dire. Slipping his feet into the slippers on the side of the bed, he picked up the phone and ordered that his jet be ready to go to Africa as soon as possible. He was going to inspect Il Dire with his own eyes. 


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven  
  
2005  
  
Sweat beaded rapidly across the weathered brow of Arvin Sloane, the heat and humidity pressing down on him like a wet cloth as he jumped out of the chopper onto the brush cleared dirt of Africa. Taking a moment to wipe his face with a handkerchief, his eyes scanned the metal fortress caging Rambaldi's greatest project. The two guards outside the keypad locked door leaned lazily on their AK-47's either not noticing or not caring that a helicopter just landed.  
  
Once he collected himself on the solid ground, Sloane approached the two guards holding himself straight, giving off an aura of confidence. Their eyes widened with recognition and they both scrambled to appear alert.  
  
He merely nodded at the men, now standing with rigid posture, making a mental note to have them replaced later. Since he was feeling rather vindictive, he planned to make them suffer a bit as well. He was halfway through typing the code when he paused, lowering his eyes with thought. Turning slowly, he faced the backs of the nervously sweating men. "Has there been a disturbance since I was here last?" he asked slowly, without a trace of suspicion in his tone.  
  
"No, sir," the man to his left barked, military training showing through the laziness earlier. Sloane's eyes snapped to the other guard, whose eyes were cast down at the hard African soil.  
  
Once satisfied that they were speaking the truth, he turned back to the keypad. Inside the air was refreshingly crisp, as he had ordered it to be, and he let the waves of coolness relieve his skin before moving towards the cause of his unease.  
  
Everything appeared normal, untouched, until his eyes scanned the encrypted indentations on the front panel. A red stain shimmered dully from the surface, and his eyes widened in rage. Someone was using Ill Dire, someone was inside of it at that very moment! He scratched at the markings, trying to draw the stain away from the surface. His fingernails came away bloody and stinging, but there was no warm glow, no sensation throughout his entire body.  
  
Ill Dire did not allow two at once. Arvin would have to wait his turn.  
  
***  
  
2003  
  
Moonlight cut a narrow band through the parting in the drawn curtains. The single beam lit the room with an ethereal glow, shading the sleeping faces with a blue gray tint, which, if one were to awake and glance about, would cause them to believe they were in truth still slumbering.  
  
The air was heavy and moist with sea mist and emotion as it tapped lightly against the shut glass window and slithered uninvited through the cracks. Creeping slowly towards the bed, it settled above the couple asleep, hands intertwined on the pillow between them. It tickled Sydney's cheek as she slept. But to Sydney, she was not sleeping.   
  
*  
  
She was in a hallway, walking heavily, each step with an individual purpose. She saw him. He turned and his eyes met hers as he approached.   
  
"I came by to see how you were."   
  
"Are you kidding me?" She asked. Surely he must have been joking.   
  
"No, I...just wanted to make sure that you..."   
  
"You didn't come here to see how I am...you came here to see how you are, because you know in your heart what you did...you want to make sure you're okay."   
  
"I buried you. Consider that for what that's..."  
  
"Don't use rational thought as a defense with me, not after all you and I have seen. Vaughn, you and I live and breathe madness every day on the job...there is no...rational thought!" Her eyes were flashing daggers and swords, glowing hot coals in a blue white fire.   
  
"I can't even pretend to have a conversation about anything else with you. What it comes down to is faith! What I was hoping you would say is, 'Sydney I gave up; I gave up on us. I lost faith.' But what you came here for...was closure...and there is not a chance you are getting that from me!" Her voice began to tremble. But she wouldn't cry. Not now.  
  
"I'm not gonna say I understand...I'm not gonna sympathize with you and tell you how hard it must be for you... But.... You wanna know how I am!? I am horrible! Vaughn, I am ripped apart! And not because I lost you... but because...if it had been me... I would have waited... I would have found the truth...I wouldn't have given up on you!"  
  
It wasn't supposed to be like this....  
  
"And know I realize... what an absolute waste that would have been!"   
  
And he stood... and stared. And her shining eyes dimmed to dying embers, but the fire remained. And she walked away, and he stared. He stared as the glassy film he'd been fighting himself finally spread over his eyes and blurred the golden shine on his finger.   
  
Emotions barreled through her, a head on collision into her already battered heart. Despair, anger, confusion, disappointment... in him.   
  
*  
  
Sydney's eyes snapped open. Her eyes had barely adjusted to the darkness when she realized that her body was shaking violently, rattling so hard that it pained her.  
  
A wave of nausea tore through her quivering body and she made the ten step trip to the bathroom just in time to beat the convulsion, bent over the toilet a second before the gagging overtook her, releasing the room service dinner she and Vaughn had eaten merely hours before.  
  
It came again and again until finally the nausea faded, but her body continued its trembling her head spinning. Every emotion she'd felt in her... dream... remained in her, eating away at her heart and thoroughly confusing every rational memory stored in her mind.   
  
A silent sob racked its way up her throat and out of her mouth as she desperately tried to make sense of it all, the tears raining down through her hurricane of feelings.  
  
And suddenly, there he was in the doorway of the bathroom, concern branded in his heavy lidded eyes. "Syd... oh my God, Syd..."  
  
The sight of him, though relieving in most ways, shot the spasm of emotions through tired body again. His eyes, now so worried and warm, reflected in her mind as the frosty green in her dream, trying so hard to block themselves off from showing the hurt of her razor blade words.  
  
His hands, now gently brushing the hair off her neck as she vomited into the porcelain bowl again, now brought forth a gold flash in her mind. A gold circular band, welded with pain and despair.   
  
As she pulled back and wiped her mouth lightly with a sheet of toilet paper, Vaughn hugged still shaking frame carefully to him. "Syd, what happened? What's wrong?"  
  
She couldn't answer, only locked her arms more tightly around him as his hands moved in a soothing adagio pattern through her hair and back.   
  
Five more minutes passed, Sydney's quiet crying dissolving the silence. Finally, she pulled back and gulped in a shaking breath as her tears slowed to a drizzle and halted. Relief cleansed her emotionally-sooted soul at the feeling of Vaughn's lips on her forehead. "You all right?"   
  
She smiled weakly. "I just... I want to brush my teeth. Go back to bed, I'll be right there."  
  
He nodded in understanding and took her hand, helping her up. He squeezed it once more, and left the room slowly, watching her over his shoulder to make sure she wouldn't be sick again. She brushed her teeth until the bristles were stained pink, wanting to rid herself of any bit of evidence that the dream had ever happened.   
  
She splashed cool water on her face, lightening the rose around her tear stained eyes, and took a long drink to soothe the burning in her throat.   
  
Taking in several more breaths, she returned to the bedroom and found him waiting for her, forehead wrinkles showing prominently, even in the half dark. She took her place beside him and his arms closed automatically around her, his hands resuming their soothing patterns once more.   
  
She curled closer to him and heard his whispered plea. "Syd, please tell me what happened."   
  
"It was... it was just a dream. A nightmare."   
  
"A nightmare has never had that affect on you," he countered.   
  
He was right. Her nightmares, though often vivid and terrifying, had never impacted her to the point of this one. What scared her the most was that she didn't know where it had come from, what could have possibly brought it about. "It felt so real," she whispered, burying her tear crusted face into his skin.   
  
"What was it about?"  
  
  
  
There was a pause, a silence that almost seemed to answer for her. "I was... yelling at you. Not just yelling empty words in the heat of the moment though... I was so angry. I have never felt that enraged or hurt in my entire life."   
  
"Why?" he whispered as his hand began to stroke lightly down her arm, encouraging her to go on.   
  
"You... you got married. To someone else."   
  
His hand's motion paused for a moment, as though in shock, then began on its path again, slightly more stiff. "Why would I ever do that?"   
  
"You thought I was dead. But I wasn't. I came back. And I was so angry at you for losing faith... for giving up on us."   
  
"Sydney..."   
  
"It felt so real, Vaughn. I don't even know how I can tell you everything I just told you. All that didn't happen in my dream. I just know... somehow I just know that you'd thought I was dead... I'd been missing. I've never had a dream like that before. It felt so real."   
  
"But it wasn't, Syd. I could never do that. I could never lose faith in us, never just move on like that. Ever." He gripped her hand tightly in reassurance.   
  
"Ok..."   
  
"Look at me, Sydney." She turned and her eyes caught the glitter of his in the darkness. "It would never happen. I promise."   
  
She nodded and smiled a little, comforted. "I believe you."   
  
Hands still linked together, they shut their eyes and drifted to sleep again, Sydney now allowing peace to replace her troubled mind. In the quiet warmth of night, neither of them dared to think that her worries were not only justified, but were materializing into truth in the ever approaching distance.... 


	9. Chapter Eight

Sydney glanced up at Vaughn as he rose to go to the kitchen. Leaning forward, she caught his pant leg and tugged gently. "Get me some water?" she asked, smiling as he bent down to kiss her quickly.  
  
"Okay," he assented, continuing his journey across the living room. The tv flashed behind him; the pregame show was starting. "The Los Angeles Kings vs. the Anaheim Mighty Ducks. Considering how it ended last season, the Kings better get some padding for their rear ends. This is going to be a short game."  
  
"So we're due back in at work on Monday?" Sydney called from the couch as Vaughn turned on the Brita in the kitchen.  
  
"Yeah, one more day of freedom from the tyrants," he sighed upon returning to his spot on the couch and handing Sydney her glass. She took it gratefully, laying her head on his shoulder as she sipped it slowly.  
  
The moment was relaxed and perfect. Almost.  
  
*Ring, ring. *  
  
"Ugh, you were saying?" Sydney groaned, lifting her head and handing him his phone.  
  
He looked at her apologetically as he flipped his phone open. "Hello?"  
  
"Agent Vaughn? This is Lauren Reed again."  
  
Sydney's pupils dilated noticeably at hearing the voice on the other end of Vaughn's cell phone. He sighed both to reassure her and to spite Lauren. "Is there something I can do for you, Ms. Reed?"  
  
"Yes there is, actually. We're calling in several agents for further questioning concerning Irina Derevko. Would it be a problem for you to come in today at 4?"  
  
He glanced at his watch. 3:27.  
  
"Actually, I'm slightly preoccupied. Would it be possible to have me in at another time?"  
  
"I'm afraid, Mr. Vaughn, that with all the time you've been..." she paused and cleared her throat, "*preoccupied* this weekend, this simply cannot be held off any longer. I'll see you at four."  
  
Click.  
  
"Damnit," he muttered, pressing the end button on his phone violently. "I have to go in." She pressed her face into his shoulder briefly before kissing him.  
  
"Then go in and get it over with," she said, her eyes mere inches away from his. He kissed her again, quickly, and got up from the couch. The announcers chattered away in the background, but she was no longer interested. Hockey wasn't all that appealing to her; the highlight of the game was watching his eyes light up and seeing him jump up from their comfortable position screaming and shaking his fist.  
  
He returned a few minutes later dressed in his standard oxford suit, tightening his tie as he reached for his keys on the counter top. He smiled sadly at her. "I'll be back as soon as I can."  
  
Rising on her knees, she leaned against the back of the couch, looking up at him with a small smile on her face. "I know you will, but I'll still tape the game for you." "I'm not just going to rush because of the game you know."  
  
Her eyes narrowed. "Uh huh." Her doubt caused him to walk over to her and kiss her soundly.  
  
"Hockey isn't my only love," he whispered, giving her one last peck before exiting noisily through the door.  
  
***  
  
Lauren was sitting at the table in conference room C, spine straight and eyebrows raised at his late entrance. "Agent Vaughn, so glad you could make it."  
  
Before he even sat down, he made it a point to be upfront and direct. He really didn't need an NSC agent with a crush to keep him from spending the evening with Sydney. "Hello, Ms. Reed. I don't mean to be rude upfront but could we possibly make this as quickly as possible? I have to get home."  
  
"Hm. What's the rush?" She was probing into his personal life, and he immediately bristled.  
  
"Is that your first question? Because I don't believe it concerned Irina Derevko."  
  
Lauren sighed, clearly growing exasperated. "Alright, then. What was the last time you were in contact with Irina Derevko?"  
  
"Willingly?" he questioned, thinking of all the times he was forced to work with her.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Uh... had to have been..."  
  
"When the CIA needed to gain control of a computer program called Echelon. She had knowledge that would help us to do so. That would have been... last December."  
  
"And there was nothing that could have hinted her plans?"  
  
"Nothing," he confirmed, then added in a mutter, "for the second time."  
  
Lauren didn't seem to notice. At least, she didn't show it. "Did you ever have conversations with Derevko about subjects other than intelligence necessary for the missions?"  
  
He saw a warning light blaze in his mind. "What are you asking?"  
  
"We simply want to check for emotional biases in this case-"  
  
Half rising from his seat, he exclaimed indignantly, "Emotional biases! The woman killed my father!" After a second he remembered she was only doing her job, and resumed his earlier position.  
  
Lauren sighed. "Yes, alright. Moving on. What did you usually converse with her about?"  
  
"You seem to already know," Vaughn deadpanned. She sighed again. He rubbed his forehead and answered, if only to stop the sighing. "When the CIA needed unavailable information, she would sometimes be able to provide us with necessary and usually accurate intel."  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
His mind quickly ran through every meeting with Derevko, but it skidded to a screeching stop when it reached the conversation he had with her after he recovered from the virus.  
  
He's struggling, deciding how to put this into words without risking his job or her life. "You asked me some questions. I told you I'd answer them if you helped me. You did help me and I thank you for that."  
  
She responds in typical fashion, echoing his earlier sentiments. "I didn't do it for you. He continues in what he thinks is a normal tone, all things considering. "I'm trying to live a normal life, which was always hard given what I do but it's gotten harder since I met your daughter. It's not that knowing her hasn't made my life better. It has. But it's also made it that much worse," he hesitates, "I think I've said enough."  
  
"The problem, Mr. Vaughn, is that to the one person who matters, you haven't said anything."  
  
Drumming his fingers on the table, his eyes rise to meet Lauren's without a second's hesitation, even though his mind was still whirling over that conversation. "No. We only discussed intel."  
  
Her eyes narrowed. She didn't believe him.  
  
And he found he didn't care too much.  
  
"You're sure that's all?" she emphasized. He nodded. Maybe a bit too eagerly, but then, he wasn't trying to win a Tony. Just trying to get this aggravating blonde off his back.  
  
"All right, then. Can you explain how it was exactly that you first came into personal contact with Derevko?"  
  
A new memory collided with the previous one.  
  
"That woman, forty-eight hours ago, was one hundred per cent bad news. But now she's ours and there is just a chance, Mr. Vaughn, that she has turned."  
  
"...When she got done with my father, he could only be identified by his dental records."  
  
"Yes. Nevertheless, she headed up an organization that controlled people who influenced policy decisions at NATO, the U.N., and the World Bank. Even with all our resources, the CIA doesn't know the full scope of her operation.  
  
The key players, their methods, acquisitions, ambitions... "  
  
"If I can get her to talk, I don't want you to ask Sydney to see her ever again."  
  
"Well, I'm not going to make that promise."  
  
"You're not the easiest guy to work with, are you?"  
  
"No. No, definitely not."  
  
Vaughn thought carefully before answering. "When Derevko turned herself in, it was a very emotional experience for Agent Bri... Sydney. Finding that the woman she'd always thought to be her mother was re-entering her life as a completely different person. To make matters worse, she was being forced into seeing her for intel by Director Kendall. Meeting with her then would have broken Sydney, but the information was imperative. So I offered to go in her place."  
  
Lauren jotted a few notes down on her pad and looked back up, skeptical and a bit too green for his personal taste. "Are you telling me, Agent Vaughn, that you agreed to meet with the murderer of your father just so Agent Bristow, her daughter, wouldn't have to?"  
  
"Yes." He found he enjoyed watching her eyes widen with the implication of his feelings for Sydney, as if it gave him satisfaction. As if it was what she deserved.  
  
"And you did this with no care as to what emotional stress would be placed upon you?"  
  
Vaughn waited what seemed a long time before answering. It knew why know, but back then he couldn't remember if it actually occurred to him or if he did it automatically.  
  
"Sydney has dealt with more issues and emotional journeys that anyone I've ever come into contract with. Her comfort and peace, if only in place of that five minute meeting, was worth it."  
  
Lauren stared at him, amazed and brimming with jealousy. Finally, she scratched down her notes, pressing down so hard that she broke a pencil point in the process. Then she looked back up at him, cleared her throat, and choked out, "Ok. That's all for today, I think. Thank you."  
  
"My pleasure," he muttered to himself sarcastically, rising from his seat. Drawing more attention than he wanted, he practically ran out of the Ops Center to the parking garage. For some reason unbeknownst to him, it became increasingly harder to breathe inside the building, and he felt that he needed to see Sydney right then or else...or else...he didn't know what. All he knew was that he wanted to hold her in his arms until he died.  
  
Perhaps because of the unforeseeable force that always seemed to be amidst the two of them, his phone began to ring at that precise moment and he knew exactly who he'd find on the other end. "Hello?"  
  
"Hey, it's me." He smiled at that as he climbed into his car. "Are you finished?"  
  
"Yeah, debrief just ended." He slammed the door shut.  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"I haven't left yet. I'm in the car about to pull out of the parking garage."  
  
"Oh. In that case, I'm hanging up. See you in a minute." Click.  
  
'That was odd,' he thought, but he only had to ponder it for a second, however, because as he glanced up into his rearview mirror he saw a slim figure in dark colors advancing towards him.  
  
Even from the distance she was unmistakable, her hips swinging with each step, arm reaching to place her cell phone in her purse, face baring the tiniest hint of a smile. Caught in the moment, he stared at the mirror, paralyzed. He came back to himself and performed a mental shake, surprised that she could still affect him like that.  
  
He greeted her with a small kiss. "Why are you here?" he asked, forehead wrinkling in concern.  
  
"I don't know, Kendall said it was urgent," she replied. "Didn't you get paged?"  
  
"Apparently not," he said, checking his beeper, "and nobody informed me of an urgent meeting while I was in there."  
  
"Hmm," she sighed, "Probably just another seductive mission to steal information from some man with excessive facial hair." Vaughn chuckled, though he didn't feel totally comfortable downplaying her missions as a joke.  
  
"Anyway," she added, "Want to come along? I'm sure you can find something to do, and then we can leave together."  
  
He wasn't exactly excited about the prospect of returning to the ops center, but the sudden desperation to be with Sydney hadn't died off yet. "Sure," he said, feeling the urge to kiss her coming on strong.  
  
Before he could fulfill his wish, Weiss burst through the door of the parking garage, huffing and looking around, panicked. When he saw Vaughn standing with Sydney, he let out a huge sigh of relief. "Thank god!" he panted, jogging over to the pair, "I saw you leaving on the security cameras and ran out here to stop you. Thanks for distracting him, Syd. My ass would have been on the wrong side of Kendall's shoe."  
  
Vaughn smirked, "God, Weiss, when was the last time you went for a run?"  
  
He grimaced. "Too long, apparently. Ready for the most boring hour of your life?"  
  
Sydney glanced sideways at him as they began to walk back to the rotunda. "Why do you say that?"  
  
"Something I heard," he said, "You guys are going to search some old storage facility in Africa. Personally, that's not exactly my idea of a good time."  
  
Both Sydney and Vaughn got chills when they heard this, although neither could explain why. All they knew was that it was a mission they dreaded, and something terrible awaited them in that building in Africa. 


	10. Chapter Nine

This is the last chapter of AtD...sad, isnt it? We'll be posting the epilogue soon. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews! Hopefully Dani and I will collaborate again in the future.

**Chapter Nine**

"Mountaineer, this is Sparrow. You're clear for entry."  
  
"Copy that. Thanks, Sparrow."  
  
With the approved clearance, Sydney advanced towards the building in the distance, attempting to concentrate on getting inside unnoticed the hopefully air conditioned storage facility, as opposed to the mind numbing heat pressing down on her.  
  
Her male cohorts, luckily, could always be counted on to distract her from her discomfort. "Hey Sparrow?" Vaughn muttered from beside her as they neared their destination.  
  
"Yes, Boyscout?"  
  
"Why Sparrow?"  
  
"You don't remember? When I was issued my new code three months ago, Marshall had developed an incurable fetish for Pirates of the Carabbean."  
  
Sydney found herself smirking despite the sweat gathering on the back of her neck and the tight knot beginning to form in her stomach, which was growing more rapidly as she and Vaughn closed the distance to the building.  
  
An undeniable sense of déjà vu overcame her as the guards were taken out, swiftly and silently, and she paused for a moment to shake the feeling off. Vaughn touched her arm in concern, but she just shook her head and motioned for him to follow her in. Oiling the doors in case of rust, Vaughn lingered a moment outside as Sydney pulled the heavy door towards her. Inside was a single light bulb, droning lazily. The room was bare.  
  
"The back," Sydney whispered into her comm, pointing towards a steel door in the rear of the empty room. Her feet were light as she stepped across the floor, and a strong sense of foreboding made her hesitate when she pulled the door open. She got over it quickly, however, and stepped into the room.  
  
The temperature was icy; so refreshingly shocking to her clammy skin, and she breathed in deep, relishing in the wakeup call it was to her senses. As her skin began to tingle, her eyes scanned the room, and she gasped.  
  
Through the darkness, her gaze fell on a large, compelling shape in the middle of the room; an archway. An archway leading seemingly to nothing.  
  
Suddenly, the stiff hairs on the back of her neck didn't seem like they were from the cold anymore.  
  
_I've done this before... I've seen this before... I know what this is..._ repeated somewhere in her mind. Though she couldn't connect the concept to a specific time or place, it urged her to move forward, closer to the object, close enough to see the tiny engravings that decorated its surface.  
  
She saw nothing on the other side but the blank wall that surrounded all four sides of the room. Still, she found herself bringing her fingers to the engravings, not sure why she felt the need to press them down.  
  
Instantly, she pulled back as the material seemed to bite into her skin, scorching her. Upon examination, she found that the markings were imprinting into her fingertips, and the last sign, upon her pinky, was the Rambaldi eye.  
  
A green glow began to form in the center of the arch, and grew in intensity until it enveloped her, and she heard the cries from the other side of the room and her comm fade slowly until all she was aware of was a floating sensation and the light that bombarded her eyelids.  
  
In her mind she heard two voices, both her own, calling, beckoning, tearing her in two, and she was filled with a powerful yearning to make it end. Images began to appear, belonging to the first voice, she knew, and they were scenes of her, drinking with Weiss, crying alone, smiling with her father. The other voice took over and she was back with Vaughn, kissing him, talking to Will in the hospital, and she was filled with such a need to choose that it was painful.  
  
It was so agonizingly obvious, but the images faded and she was left with only depressing memories that she didn't have, and she felt herself sobbing into an oblivion until the light faded and she was left with only black.  
  
A heavy silence crashed in, perfectly matching the empty blackness. All she could feel was her head spinning, and suddenly, a tiny rustling could be heard within the deepest corner of her mind.  
  
Slowly, gradually, it grew louder and louder, as though someone were turning up a muted radio. They were muffled noises, morphing into voices, but welcomed sounds just the same.  
  
The rapid rotation of her mind began to slow, and new sensations swept in. An uncomfortable prick in her inner arm, a cool mattress underneath her, and someone's warm hand in her own. She concentrated hard on the last feeling, listening intently to the muffled voice as she did so.  
  
It sharpened in her mind more easily than she'd thought it would. "Sydney..." the voice repeated. "Syd... Syd, come on. Open your eyes for me..."  
  
She wanted desperately to obey this command, to free herself of the blackness and greet the light and comfort she hoped was waiting for her. But could she? She still couldn't seem to force her brain to connect its thoughts with the rest of her body.  
  
"Open your eyes, Syd... please. For me."  
  
_Do it, Sydney. For him. Come on... just a little movement... you can do it. Don't let him down.  
  
_Finally, her eyelids sluggishly but surely unveiled her hazel irises, her pupils growing quickly and causing her eyes to sting and water at the sight of florescent lighting. She focused her sights on him instead. "Hi."  
  
"Syd... thank God." Suddenly, it wasn't just her hand wrapped in his touch; it was her whole body, though more loosely than she would have liked as he was probably afraid of hurting her or disturbing the IV that she now noticed in her arm. She wasn't about to complain about it though, and rested her head on his shoulder.  
  
"We were so worried," he muttered.  
  
"I'm sorry," she whispered into his shirt, kissing it softly before pulling away. Her need to know overcame the want to remain in his embrace. "What happened?"  
  
His hand came up to rub the weariness out of his eyes briefly, but he smiled and quickly took her hand, rubbing the soft skin of her palm with his thumb. "Do you remember the mission at all?" he asked, eyes on her hands.  
  
"We were in Africa, looking for a Rambaldi device in a storage facility. There was an arch..." she trailed off, staring over his shoulder. Her mouth opened in remembrance, and for a moment she was unaware of everything around her. Memories of both lives returned; she remembered living in pain, and she remembered living in pleasure.  
  
"Vaughn," she gasped, grasping his hand tightly, "You...we're....are we...are...are you married?"  
  
His forehead erupted into those adorable wrinkles she'd come to love so much, and his hand came up to cradle her face. "I don't know what that thing did to you, Syd, but you're talking crazy."  
  
"But... I... You were..." she tried to explain, but was unable to find a way. His hand on her cheek, and although immensely comforting, also served to confuse her further. What the hell happened to everything?  
  
In her mind, she tried to connect what was going on now as to what had already occurred. She remembered being faced with both realities in the archway; she'd been forced to choose.  
  
It hadn't seemed right. Why should she have been allowed to redo everything when the rest of the world had to go on living with their bad decisions and misfortunes?  
  
But in the end, her heart had won the grueling battle with her head. When the light surrounded her, she knew where she wanted and deserved to be. Right here, right where she lay.  
  
She smiled a little as she snapped out of her reverie and remembered what Vaughn had just said. "Oh... I know, it's just... I'm a little dazed. I don't really know what I'm saying," she gasped.  
  
"Obviously," he chuckled. He stroked her cheek with his index finger, silent, wondering at how close he had come to losing her. He had no clue just how close, however, and neither did she.  
  
"How long have I been out?" she asked as his finger continued its journey down her face and neck, finally trailing down her arm and settling in her hand.  
  
"Three and a half days," he muttered, and she could see the weariness behind his eyes. There was no doubt in her mind that he had barely slept during her mental absence.  
  
She stretched her neck and groaned. "Ugh, No wonder I feel like I've been hit by numerous buses."_ Or perhaps I feel that way because I just escaped from my personal hell with the help of a 15th century semicircle_, she thought, but didn't voice this aloud.  
  
Vaughn chuckled and moved his hand into her hair, feeling more relief and comfort with each stroke than he had since the night of the fire; the moment he'd found her huddled up on his floor beside his bookshelf. She smiled up at him, hardly able to believe that any other way of life had existed. The torturing, nightmarish reality she'd fallen out of just a month ago was already becoming a fading memory under his touch. "Vaughn?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you ever think about things that have happened? I mean... what if they'd happened differently? Like... what if you'd made a different choice when faced with some seemingly insignificant decision? Where would you end up?" Vaughn looked at her oddly for a moment, unsure of where this question had come from and where it was headed. But something in her eyes told him that it didn't matter; she just needed an answer. His fingers continued their journey through her matted hair, down her temple, softly curling around her cheek.  
  
"Well... I guess everyone does. But most of the time, people can't predict how their life would change if they'd chosen to wear the red tie or the blue tie, or watch reruns of Friends instead of CSI. I guess I just make my choices... and I try not to look back... not to say I don't," he corrected, "But I try. There's no use dwelling on the past when it's unchangeable."

For a moment, Sydney was silent, taking in his answer. She wanted to ask about what happens if the past is changeable but kept the words in. She wondered briefly if she should tell him about the other reality, about her supposed death and memory loss, about his relationship with Lauren. But before her inner battle could rage, Vaughn spoke up again.

"Syd?"

"Yeah?"

"I want you to know that... even though no one knows how their life would turn out... I have some idea. I have no doubt that regardless of what decisions I've made in my life... in the end..." he paused, hesitating, "They all would have led me to you. And we'd be together no matter what." he finished quietly, still gently caressing her face with his thumb.

She grinned, placing her hand over his, now lost in thoughts about what he was saying. Was he right? If she had stayed in that other world, would they have ultimately been together in the end anyway? After a moment, she decided that the answer was most likely yes. It might have taken an eternity, and they might have dealt with more pain than anyone should have to endure in a lifetime. But she had faith, just as he did, that they'd always find each other.

"Vaughn?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"I love you."

He smiled widely, the already obvious but never verbalized statement warming the air all around them. "I love you too, Syd." He leaned down to connect his lips with hers, and in that moment she had made up her mind. It didn't matter what could have been, what would have happened. All that mattered was where she should be. Here.

All of her decisions had brought her here, to this moment. This was where she belonged. When she was with Vaughn, the journey ended. And in spite of everything, maybe the path she'd chosen hadn't made all that much of a difference.

It had been three and a half lengthy days since he arrived at this godforsaken piece of land, and he was sitting in the same position that he'd assumed shortly after he'd deduced what phenomenon was occurring.  
  
A tremendous jolt knocked him out of his meditation; he had to brace himself against the cool metal wall to keep his balance.  
  
The glow from the arch had finally returned—he smiled grimly, pulling the gun from the waistband of his pants. The archway shuddered, creaking ominously as the glow intensified, blinding him. He fell to his knees, dropping the gun to the floor. He didn't hear it land.  
  
He never found out who it was that destroyed his plans; during the creation of the arch he unwittingly supplied it with enough power to implode...

**To Be Concluded...**


	11. Epilogue

Epilogue  
  
Lauren's eyes scanned the rotunda thoroughly, checking the nooks and crannies visually, searching for any sign of him. He was due back today, as well as Sydney, a fact that she noted with a particular air of disgust. It was common knowledge that they went on their "well deserved vacation" to recover from the events of the African search mission, but why they needed to go together was something she didn't exactly agree with.  
  
At long last, her searching was rewarded by the sight of Michael Vaughn, striding through the security checkpoint, pinning his identification card back to his suit jacket. The slight smile that had been creeping up her face sank down again when she saw Sydney follow right after, and she glared hatefully in her direction.  
  
She watched, fuming, as the couple fought to suppress grins and replace them with the thin lipped poker faces expected of them. When they turned and glanced at each other, however, they burst out laughing. Now, with an uncaring attitude, they continued towards their desks and, unknowingly towards a venomous Lauren, with bright smiles stretched across their faces.  
  
Lauren intervened once they were within an audible range, blocking their path. "Ah, Agent Vaughn," she cooed, then fixed a glare at an unaffected Sydney and practically spat out, "Agent Bristow." She turned back to Vaughn, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "So glad to see you've returned. I hope all went well with your time away."  
  
"It was excellent, thank you, Agent Reed," Vaughn answered honestly, accidentally letting his eyes meet Sydney's as they shared another smile. The secrets it seemed to hold sent Lauren into an even deeper state of frustration.  
  
Weiss practically ran over when he caught sight of Vaughn, smiling and giving him the one arm 'manly friend' hug. "Dude!" he exclaimed, "Donovan's been going nuts! Why didn't you come pick him up last night?"  
  
The color rose along Vaughn's neck as he stuttered a little. "Um...yea, about that..."  
  
Laughing, Weiss gave him a huge wink. "Don't worry about it, man. I got you covered. Good to see you, Syd," he added, still grinning. "So...have a relaxing vacation? Didn't strain yourself too much, did you?"  
  
Vaughn grabbed Weiss's arm roughly. "Show me what's happened since we've been gone," he ordered, steering him away from Sydney. Lauren's molars were beginning to throb from grinding them together so hard.  
  
Sydney let out a soft, content sigh as she surveyed her surroundings. She looked back at Lauren and observed, "You know, I usually hate this place when I'm here. But it's good to be back." She meant much more by the statement than just her return from her vacation, but of course Lauren didn't know that.  
  
Lauren only knew that Sydney had waltzed in from a getaway with Michael Vaughn glowing so happily that she might as well have been radioactive, which made her seethe, but she managed to maintain her cool exterior.  
  
She merely nodded at Sydney and said nothing in reply.  
  
Sydney offered a tiny smile anyway. "Well, it's good to see you again, Agent Reed. Good luck once again in your investigation here," she held out her left hand for Lauren to shake.  
  
Lauren raised her eyebrow at Sydney's left hand, but, deciding that she had decidedly lost her mind, she decided to humor the overworked agent. However, when her fingers closed around Sydney's, she felt the unmistakable prick of a doubtlessly expensive diamond. Behind the smile, Lauren saw a glint of malice, but when Sydney opened her mouth again, it was evilness with a sickeningly sweet coating. "Don't worry, I'm not going to change my name. Things would just get too confusing!"  
  
Turning away before Lauren could lash out, Sydney walked over to Vaughn and Weiss, smiling broadly. She tapped Vaughn's shoulder firmly, and he moved so that she could see what they were doing. Reports were spread across Vaughn's desk, taking up every inch of the surface. "So," she whispered so that Weiss couldn't hear, "guess the whole thing about taking advantage of me on your desk is not gonna happen, huh?"  
  
"What are you two whispering about?" Weiss demanded, looking up from a report.  
  
Vaughn's color was back, and he just shook his head. "Nothing you need to know."  
  
Still feeling out of the loop, he scowled at Sydney. "What are you grinning about?"  
  
"I'm just...happy, that's all."  
  
A/N: That's all folks! Dani and I worked on this story for over seven months, and we're sad to see it end. Thanks for all the reviews, and hope we haven't confused you too much. ;) 


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